Class Clown

Canadian Geese are taking over the recreation area in the mornings. They were covering the parking lot. When a truck drove by, they didn't even scatter.

They leave great big globs of green poop but it's fun having them around my new workamping site.

I have company visiting. We are trying to repair this old motorhome with hilarious results.

The fire extinguisher accidentally went off.  Problem was, we didn't have a fire. But super fine white powdery dust scattered EVERYWHERE on EVERY THING.

So we are busy cleaning, coughing, vacuuming, cursing, laughing.

Harley enrolled in K-9 school again. He is the class clown. He paraded in the middle of the room with a "Look at me!" attitude, showing off, dancing, shaking, playing. He seemed clueless that he was attending school and not performing at the circus.

I should mention he was tactfully removed from the first class he signed up for and rescheduled for a different class.  The instructor carefully suggested he needed special attention. The first class was crowded.  The teacher transferred him to the puppy class that only has 3 dogs total. Two are cute as can be puppies and then there is Harley at age 3.5 years old. The other pet parents were surprised to find out he is not a puppy.

I spritzed him with PawFume spray and brushed him up nicely so he wouldn't look like a ragamuffin. But just before we arrived, he seriously redid his own fur to his own liking, which included raucous shaking from head to tail so he showed up for school looking like he had blown in on the wings of a tornado.

He immediately engaged the other two pups in play trying to get them to cut up with him.

The instructor tried to bribe him with treats. He liked this game, doing everything she desired. I was so proud of my little monkey. But he became full of treats and stopped doing anything at all. Matter of fact he wandered out of the classroom a few times to go flirt with other dogs and people.

He was sent home with a mountain of homework which he seems very indifferent about.

He earned an A+ on making everyone laugh but he also disrupted the class often with his "Look at me" antics.

I am embarrassed but not totally surprised my little buddy is labeled "special needs". Good grief. He was also nicknamed Hilarious Harley.  I saw it on the teacher's notes.

Life is Goof

Life is goof.

Oops. I typed that when I meant "Life is GOOD". But "Life is Goof" might be a new slogan for me...  I seem to goof up so much.

Angels swoop down from the sky to take care of a fool like me. I have no idea what on earth I did to deserve such deliverance.

I am not afraid to make a spectacle of myself to be the laughing stock or to be ridiculed. It happens. Such is life.

I just want to be happy, avoid stress, get well, stay well, laughing long and hard at the world around me.

I took this picture, it's one of my favorites. It's a rainbow between Tortola and Jost Van Dyke in the Virgin Islands. Over 23 years of my adult life were spent in the Caribbean.

To this day, I am still homesick. Due to circumstances, it's unlikely I will be moving back anytime soon, if ever. But one just never knows. My life is still one big adventure. I leap out of bed wondering what will happen next.

In 2009, doctors thought it unlikely I would live much longer than a few precious months. They were pumping me full of 17 different drugs, 13 of which they expected me to be on for the remainder of my days. I had allowed them to unwittingly drive my happy little life into financial ruin.

Why was I living in a hospital getting worse instead of better?  I hated it. First I had to get out of there, then I had to get away from their clutches.

In a shocking move, I simply quit taking their advice and their drugs. Neither they nor I thought that July 2013 would be rolling around with me waking up alive, in far better health than under their care.

How many prescription drugs am I on now?

One.  (I resent it too but find it necessary at times.)

I hope one day soon I can find a way to get out from under it and bon voyage to pills with more bad effects than good.

Now I do take alternatives in the forms of herbs and extracts plus a much improved diet that seeks to restore health, not rob it.

The sad thing is, I've had to hoe this row all alone, forging ahead into the unknown, doing thousands upon thousands of hours of exhausting research utilizing the internet as one ginormous library.

I couldn't find a doctor that wanted to listen to me, the lowly little patient. Our objectives seemed at opposite ends of the rainbow. I wanted away from their drugs, they wanted to pump me full of profit making chemicals. Who cares what the patient wants?

I felt like they were picking my pocketbook clean, rather than caring about me getting well.

However in doing my own research, as many of you probably already know,  you certainly can't believe everything you find on the internet. There are so many self-serving internet sites that will plump themselves full of erroneous or doubtful information in order to sell a product or service, that one has to further sort out for themselves what is true and accurate and what is not.

My current life, took a strange and interesting detour. I am happy as can be waking up alive in my little old wheel estate, sailing down the highways and byways of America.

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade and be happy.

Even if you have to do it all alone.

Life is goof.

When you stop carrying on, they carry you out.

~~~~~~~~

Puppy Play

What goes on in a puppy's mind...

Oh look.

A bar just my height. 

Let me belly up and play make believe.

"Bark-tender!

I'll have a shot of your finest water and an order of pine cones to munch on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Skydiving

I'm on the mend, so I decided to fix the RV awning so I could drive 10 miles to the stores over the border.

The awning has been stuck halfway out for a few days. The strap for pulling it in and out broke off. I was sure I had some green parachute string. I planned to repair it with that for now until I could work out how to replace the strap.

I am so well organized here, I found yellow cord, brown twine, white clothesline, manila twisted rope, braided string, floating orange polypropylene line, and kite string, but not one scrap of green paracord. I have no idea where the paracord ran off to.

Perhaps it went skydiving without me.

In the islands of the Caribbean there are rumors of my skydiving accident that left a horrible scar on my knee.

Actually it was a boating accident during a wild storm in the Virgin Islands but I was tired of telling the story. So one day when I was at a huge beach party chili cookoff for charity, friends kept coming up to me asking about my injuries because my leg was bandaged from ankle to thigh and I was hobbling around with a 4 pronged cane while wearing a short sarong.

At that time in my life all my outfits were short.

A half dozen skydivers had just literally crashed the party by making their spectacular entrance from the sky. A group of us standing around were joking that some people will do anything to avoid the parking fees.

Someone I knew walked up to the group to ask about my leg. So I told them it was a bad landing when we were practicing skydiving last week. Even funnier everyone standing around talking believed me.

I knew one of the skydivers. He saw me and came over to say hello. So that is how that wild rumor got started. Three weeks later on a different island at a beach, several friends came up to tell me they had "heard" about my skydiving accident.

Today I finally settled on the twine as a temporary fix for the awning. Once it was rolled back up in place, I tidied up the motorhome, unplugged the umbilical cords and set sail down the highway. Harley was riding shotgun eagerly looking out the window to figure out where we might be going.

I missed my exit to go shop. I had to drive 24 extra miles to get back to where I wanted to go.

Good grief.

Usually I just go with the flow however I wasn't feeling up to touring a new town today. I just wanted to run my errands and go back home. Oh wait. I am driving in my home. Well that's the perks of owning wheel estate.

When I finished shopping, I followed the signs to the interstate ramp entrance. But I forgot they are backwards at this intersection. The north goes south and the south goes north. I don't know why this has never been fixed in the last 3 years or why I was fooled again by the deceptive signs.

So I did another 24 mile detour. Twice.  When I finally got home, I had clocked 73 miles for a 20 mile trip.

Each day is just another wild adventure! But all is well, ends well.

Any time you can walk away, it's a safe landing.

Quotes to Ponder

In my tickle  file, is a section where I collect quotes. The tickle file isn't named so because it's funny, but because it tickles my mind into thinking outside the box. 

He neither drank, smoked, nor rode a bicycle. Living frugally, saving his money, he died early, surrounded by greedy relatives. It was a great lesson to me.
John Barrymore

Get your life organized. Stop blaming things that don't exist and take care of things that do.
United States Of Tara

When we heard about the hippies, the barely more than boys and girls who decided to try something different... we laughed at them. We condemned them, our children, for seeking a different future. We hated them for their 
flowers, for their love, and for their unmistakable rejection of every hideous, mistaken compromise that we had made throughout our hollow, money-bitten, frightened, adult lives.
June Jordan

Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.
Mark Twain

Cartoon Boating

Public Parks can be quite entertaining.  You just never know what visitors will do next to amuse themselves. 

This park has a popular boat ramp on Lake Hartwell. 

Our floating courtesy dock has been flooded due to epic rainfall causing the lake levels to rise above full pond. It's no longer a dry walk to and from the dock.  One boater found a creative solution since he couldn't utilize the courtesy dock while he fetched his truck and trailer for taking his shiny new boat home again. 

Incredibly some people buy a boat but don't want to get wet.

I was walking Harley dog. We heard this speed boat whizzing into the area. Just as I turned to look *KERBANG CRUNCH*. 

Occasionally *ahem* people have more money than brains. So they buy a boat. 

The couple in the shiny new speed boat had driven it up on the concrete boat ramp with a loud sickening crunch. Strangely they were pleased with their handy work. 

The man leaped off the bow of the boat trying to jump onto the concrete and not get his trendy sneakers wet. The woman sat in the boat while it rocked back and forth on its keel on the concrete making loud crunchy noises. I was thinking that luckily they wouldn't sink at the ramp if they punctured a hole in it. 

The boater backed his truck and trailer down the boat ramp. He got out of the truck walked over to the speed boat climbing aboard the high bow with great effort. The rough pavement is embedded with pebbles for more traction at the ramp.  He reversed the boat off the concrete with quite a bit of thrust while I listened to the fiberglass noisily scraping.

He put the speed boat in gear then drove up onto the trailer crooked. The boat was only a third of the way on the trailer sitting lop sided. 

Now most mariners would reverse the boat, then try again to center it on the trailer. 

Not this Admiral. 

He revved up the engine to full speed forcing the boat against its will to loudly creep up on the trailer sideways. I was digging for my camera, in case his boat shot right up over the trailer and into the back glass of his pickup.  With more scraping it kind of worked down onto the stringers with water muffled scraping noises heard above the roar of the engine. It was off center but it was on the trailer.

He cut the engine then crawled from the bow of the boat into the rear of the pickup truck then tried to slither from the pickup bed to the drivers seat, but finally he had to get on the ramp then into his truck. 

He floored the truck's accelerator to zoom out of the ramp area with the woman still sitting in the boat. I don't think she was prepared for the 0-50 miles in 2 seconds.  He raced across the parking lot, then came to a sudden stop, like he remembered to go help her out of the boat. She looked like she had aged 10 years in 10 seconds, poor thing.

Perhaps he learned all his boating techniques from Saturday morning cartoons. 

The rough gouges on the bottom of the hull of the shiny new boat had aged it at least 10 years too. 

I guess a rough day boating is better than a smooth day at the office any which way you look at it. 

Lightning

The rains just keep coming. We had a few days of glorious sunshine.  But now the lake is back to flooding. It is raining so hard right now, I can't hear myself think.

I am still on the mend, mostly resting, getting next to nothing done at all.

I traveled and lived in my RV for over 2 years before I acquired a TV.  I am not the least bit impressed much with it though. Too many commercials and super loud laugh tracks that are downright annoying. Way too much "news".  A lot of the news is wrong on a slow day too, but all the channels in this area play news at the same time for hours!  It's way too depressing or so slanted you can see right through it.

I thought a TV would entertain me when I am stuck in bed.

However,  I figured out how to play movies with it.  That is wonderful!  Put the movie on the computer, plug it into the TV and magic!

A dear sweet angel gave me a huge sack of movies, but so far they put me to sleep. Not the content, just that my bed is oh so comfy I just doze right off.

The body is supposed to heal itself while I sleep.  Heal body! Heal!

LIGHTNING!  

LOUD long lightning!  Sounded like a tree split in half and fell somewhere nearby.

I am getting off the computer and unplugging everything. If you've read me for years, then you know why I am scared of lightning!  More later.

Friday Already

I will be back here soon writing about my wild adventures. For now I am resting up convincing mind over matter, that all will be well soon. 

Ut Oh

Technology melting down. Phone and computer putting up a fuss. Matter of fact, a computer called my phone yesterday and broke it. What's the use of being on the "Do Not Call" FCC list and having an unlisted number if marketing computers can still call me up at will?

Since that computer call, I have not been able to get calls in or out.

Even the internet crashed 8 times while I tried to post this.

I am checking for spyware and virus.  My email is overloaded with a ton of spam and notices from companies that I never asked to send me a thing. It's hard to find the REAL email.

So I am sorry, if you have called or emailed me, things are just melting down here.

Send a smoke signal.

I hope to be back here soon. But I am techno challenged.

Today is just another WILD adventure.

I think I messed up my time machine and woke up in the wrong year. How to get back where I belong?

Oh and yes, we are still flooded, but the SUN came out. I thought I had the world's worst headache, but it was just SUNSHINE. I thought that had been banned from this part of the world.

I have 1,287 pictures of blurry dog to delete one of these days. Whenever I grab the camera, it's a signal for him to tend to his crotch. I guess he wants his privates good and clean for the picture.

Some days, I just want to go to back to bed and crawl under it.

Back soon.

Or Later.

Go figure. 

Mega Sasquatch

Some days the brain fails, other days the body malfunctions.

I guess my little old wheel estate and I have a lot in common.

Small wonder I am perpetually confused.

I've been stuck in bed far too much. Yucky poo. I want to be up, out and living life not languishing in bed.

Since I moved to the new park to volunteer workamp, it has rained every day.  Not all day, but every day. Often it has been torrential storms that make a lot of racket and dump copious amounts of water in a short time.

Lake Hartwell continues to be well above full pond in spite of the dam spillway openings to lower the lake.

The ground is so thoroughly saturated that plant life is growing at an astronomical rate. The park is a vivid green against a backdrop of gloomy skies.

I've discovered that red mud indigenous to this area can be super duper slippery under the right conditions. Harley dog was rather amused when I slipped on the trail recently. I didn't fall thanks to unseen angels but my arms were flailing like a windmill while I made hilarious sounds similar to "Ew, ah, ack, oh, ugh, eeeee..."  Harley gave me a quizzical canine stare as if to say "Oh stop clowning around. That's my job!"

Amazingly I remained upright while unintentionally skating across the mud leaving long large footprints.

If you hear rumors about a mega Sasquatch (Bigfoot) in the area, it's just me walking the dog and being a mud klutz.

Doggone Electrician

My microwave died.

I tried all the old tricks to get it going again. It's from 1993 and still plowing along even though it needs a new lightbulb that one of these days I will get around to procuring.

It seems like the prior owners quit washing it out. Or maybe they never used a splatter guard. Or both. I've tried loads of products to get it clean and sanitized. The outside looks lovely, but the inside is not so pretty. But it works.

Well, it used to.

I reset the GFI breaker for the RV, which is curiously located in the bathroom.  Oddly enough, this has fixed the microwave before. Now everything worked but the microwave. Sometimes when you take something out close to the end time, the number display goes blank instead of telling time. Usually I can push a few  buttons and it springs to life again. I tried to set the time. Nothing. I tried to cook. Nothing. I opened and shut the door. Nothing. The screen was blank. With the lightbulb dead, there is no way to tell if it has electricity or not.

Even though I avoid junk food, I rely on my microwave heavily. It steams fresh vegetables retaining far more nutrients than any other cooking method. It boils pasta perfectly without making a mess. It also boils water for my endless iced green tea I love. I can make delicious iced green tea for only 37 cents per gallon. The microwave poaches eggs exquisitely and even makes boiled eggs without the shell.  It also heats up my leftovers. Since I live alone, I often cook up extras, so I have leftovers that only require reheating.

Click Here to Look Inside
Not Your Mother's Microwave Cookbook: Fresh, Delicious, and Wholesome Main Dishes, Snacks, Sides, Desserts, and More

In the summer, it's especially nice to avoid the propane stove and the heat it generates.  So all in all, I find it a tad difficult to live without my microwave. Besides, when I workamp, my electricity is provided for me, where as my propane is not. So it's another budget consideration. Ditto in the winter, my electricity is generally included in my rent.

So far I have not found any winter workamping in a warmer climate that doesn't require heavy labor. Last year my winter workamping just about did me in completely. If it hadn't have been for the help of angels, I would have never survived.  Their idea of "light housekeeping" around the campground turned out to be heavy duty labor fit for an 18 year old body builder. But I digress...

I was miffed my microwave wouldn't magically spring back to life in spite of the brand name mocking me in the face.  It's a "Magic Chef" going strong 19 years.

Always check everything before considering the worst.

A friend of mine was nearly hysterical one day because he came home to a dead computer. This was back when they were frighteningly expensive and few people had one in their home.  He immediately found a technician to come to his home. A large repair bill later he found out his computer was merely unplugged.

He had no idea how his precious computer became unplugged. So his playful dog and cat were blamed for this mystery.

Today, I asked my dog:
"Harley?  Did you unplug the microwave?"

He stared at me and didn't say a word.

I can't check the outlet the microwave is plugged into, because it is hidden behind the microwave which is built-in so it doesn't go flying around when I drive. I would have to figure out how to remove the microwave from the wall to check the plug, so I rechecked the breaker box again just for good measure.

I was puzzled because I had not used the microwave to trip a breaker. But the breaker was off. Very strange. Even stranger because I was sure it was on earlier.

It was off, and I wondered how and why. Then I remembered.  The dog did it.

Blame it on the dog.

The electric panel box is vertical with bottom hinged door. It's below the dinette booth. Harley dog likes to hop up and sit on the booth seat. He, like most dogs, has not forgiven me for removing the wall to wall carpet. So he sits on all the furniture. Since he is less than 7 pounds, this is safer all around as he doesn't get stepped on or tripped over.  He doesn't shed and I try to keep him clean or at least smelling nice. I wipe his feet when we come back from a walk.

The first time I checked the breaker, it was ON. But I left the breaker box door dropped down in the open position.

At some point Harley dog flew up on the booth and missed, landing back in the floor. I thought that meant his bladder was overly full, so I took him for a walk. He usually flies up on the furniture effortlessly as if he has invisible wings.

At the time he missed, the electric panel box was still open. But I took him for a walk, figuring the microwave would magically repair itself in my absence. We had a nice walk but Harley wasn't in a hurry to water the bushes. I was puzzled about why he missed his leap up on the settee.

As I now discovered, his little back foot must have kicked the microwave breaker off when he was trying to leap up on the seat while avoiding the open breaker box door.

Amazing.

I flipped the breaker back on.

Whew! The microwave works fine now thanks to my doggone electrician.

Epic Rainfall Floods Lake Hartwell To Record Highs

The Hartwell Lake dam flood gates were opened a day early to alleviate our record high lake levels. The last time the lake was this high was over 49 years ago on April 8, 1964 shortly after the manmade lake was completed. (Filling of the reservoir began in February 1961 and was completed in March 1962.)

This is our new accessible floating fishing pier on Hartwell Lake. High railings and a wheelchair friendly sidewalk ramp make it safe for those wheelchair bound to come enjoy fishing and sightseeing.

However, the lake water rose so quickly with our recent epic rains that the dock had to be closed.

The courtesy boat dock is also closed, but that didn't stop these boaters from using it anyhow. 

Harley dog and I used to walk this wooded area on soft grass and pine needles in the mornings but it's become quite swampy now.

The red lines indicate the normal full pond shoreline. The flooded shores present many new hidden obstacles for boaters.  The island in the distance is quite popular for parties.  Despite the island's beach being under water, many boaters anchored there anyhow though the crowds were a lot less than normal this past weekend.

The waves are tossing up loads of litter along the shoreline mixed in with pine needles, sticks and Styrofoam chunks possibly from floating docks.

With a shoreline of 963 miles, we are in desperate need of self appointed volunteers to help clean up the manmade garbage of bottles, cans, jars, wrappers, toys and Styrofoam.

Yesterday among the items I picked up along this shoreline were 2 propane bottles severely rusted.

Some boaters and lake visitors are under the impression that the lake is 660 feet deep and therefore an endless landfill to hide their garbage. But the 660 foot lake level is based on the number of feet above sea level.  The deepest point at full pond is 185 feet.

I was aghast to see a well known news site report that the lake was 665 feet deep. The professional journalist wasn't bothering to check details and facts in their haste to slap up a sensational article.

In a closed section of the park, Harley dog and I could smell something putting up an awful stink. I was beginning to think the very worst, that we might find a body washed up somewhere. I was gagging and turning to head back home. Then we stumbled upon these old dead fish, curiously stashed in a large stainless steel stock pot sitting on the curb of one of the terraced picnic sites.

Not a soul around anywhere. Not a drop of water or ice in the pot. Despite the horrendous stench, I managed to get the pot and fish to a nearby garbage can.  I tied up the garbage bag to try to put an end to the incredible odor.

It reminds me of a funny story from my decades living in the Caribbean. Early one morning on the radio during the local announcements of who died, who was born, who got married, who was having a family reunion and so on, a special announcement was made that Bus 19 was not running their route.

The announcer went on to say;
"To the fisherman who left his bucket of fish under the back seat of bus 19 yesterday, please come to the garage and claim the bus."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Klutz Day and More Flooding

The waters just keep coming. I hope to make more pictures tomorrow. Today was a klutz day.

In the above picture, all that green stuff used to be the park's lawn. All the brownish hue in the water was a beautiful beach for the swim area.

To the left in the picture is a tiny brown sign, it is now surrounded by water.

It keeps raining off and on day and night. Half of our park is  now closed off until it resurfaces.

Boater's can't use the courtesy floating dock anymore unless they swim to and from it.

I've been a real klutz too. The dog is not a very good electrician either.

Remember how I am always saying when you feel bad, just SMILE and slowly count to 10?

Well, my jaw hurts and I've counted to 24,893 so far. It started with waking up at 9am thoroughly confused. I normally get up at 5am. I guess my body needed more healing time.

I should have heeded the warning and STAYED in bed. Harley dog wasn't the least bit interested in getting up either. But get up we did and things just started going wrong.

Somehow I managed to trip myself up, spill a cup of coffee on the floor and knock my phone off the table.

See?  I told you I can multitask.

One cup of coffee looks like a gallon on the floor.

My 3rd pair of semi-orthopedic shoes arrived by UPS. They are still wrong. This is getting comical. They've shipped the same size to me 3 times and it's still the wrong size. I called them.  They hung up on me. I thought they were fed up with me. But later I found out my phone is broken.

The phone's microphone isn't working, so people just keep hanging up on me. Well by now I had emailed them that no matter how hard they try to force these size 6 shoes on me, they still don't and won't fit.

I am trying a new tactic with them. I am sending these back for a full refund. Then I am starting a brand new order with them. Exchanging for the correct size, no matter how many times I fill out the forms and call them, is just not working. They keep sending me the same shoes, round trip!

This is just the tip of the iceberg of a long klutzy day.

Tomorrow I will tell about the dog playing electrician.

If I get up.

More Water More Lake More Flooding

The lake just keeps rising above full pond.

This picnic area used to have a nice strip of grass in front. Then came the rains. Then came the waters. Here comes the lake.

I took this first picture this morning. This is table number one. The lawn is gone already.

Glub, glub, glub.

This is table number one later in the day.

A few hours later, the waters were still rising.

Considering this lake has a 980 mile shoreline, I am amazed at how fast it can rise. This is my 3rd picture of table one, on the  same day.

The Dam News

I was invited to be a guest speaker on a radio show to talk about the dammed lake and their upcoming dam tests.  They asked me to write up my dam announcement for their approval first. So here are my dam notes. 

Dammed Lake Hartwell which was 15 feel below full pond last summer, is now over a foot and a half into dammed flood storage. Next Wednesday the Dam Corps will test the dam flood gates for the first time since 2010 when they ran the last dam test.

During the dam test, dam spillway gates will open one to two feet to allow dam safety and dam experts a chance to evaluate their dam readiness in dam accordance with the Dam Corps of Engineers’ Dam Safety Program.

The dam test will lower dammed water levels at the dammed Lake Hartwell about three inches, a slight damn drop considering the dammed lake was nearly a foot-and-a-half into dammed flood storage at 661.41 on Wednesday. Full dammed pool is 660 feet above sea level. Dammed flood stage is 665 feet, according to the Dam Corps.

At the Hartwell Dam, dam visitors can observe the dam test from the fishing pier below the dam on the Georgia side of the river. Dam parking is limited and dam rangers will direct  dam traffic and dam parking.

For more dam information, just  contact the dam Corps or the dam engineers or the dam rangers or a dammed lake volunteer such as yours truly.

I hope you dam enthusiasts enjoyed my dam news. 

The Hail You Say

I hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July.

We've had intermittent storms here and flooding. The hail from the other day apparently knocked a leak in my roof. Good grief.

Opened up an upper cabinet to find everything soaking wet.

Always something to patch up somewhere, but I haven't been able to do a thing about it because it just keeps storming.

My little old motorhome is only 19 years old. You would think it could take a little hail now and then.

Harley and I go out between storms. Then it takes another 5 minutes to dry off his feet and fur. He outgrew his little raincoat.

I met a lady at the store who said when she walks her little dog and it's wet, she tells him when they get back home "Wait, I have to dry your feet."  He rolls over on his back with all four legs in the air!

Harley waits on the entry rug for me to dry him off.  He bounces all over the motorhome, so I don't want wet doggy paw prints. Now if he could learn to roll over and present his paws...

Life is good, but wet.

Poion Oak, Ivy and Sumac

So *scratch* I wish *slather on oatmeal lotion* that *scratch itch scratch* I had paid more attention to the plants *smooths on calamine lotion* than picking up *itch scratch itch* the litter  in the woods today.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Poison oak has leaves that look like oak leaves, usually with three leaflets but sometimes up to seven leaflets per leaf group. It grows as a vine or a shrub. Poison oak is more common in the western United States, but it is also found in the eastern United States and, rarely, in the Midwest.

Poison sumac has 7 to 13 leaflets per leaf stem. The leaves have smooth edges and pointed tips. Poison sumac grows as a shrub or small tree. It is found in wooded, swampy areas, such as Florida and parts of other southeastern states, and in wet, wooded areas in the northern United States.

Poison ivy usually has three broad, spoon-shaped leaves or leaflets ("Leaves of three? Let it be!"), but it can have more. It may grow as a climbing or low, spreading vine that sprawls through grass (more common in the eastern United States) or as a shrub (more common in the northern United States, Canada, and the Great Lakes region).

Paws For The Cause

The little Bark Ranger is plumb tuckered out from his park duties.